When Blessings Feel Like Burdens

It’s 5:45 pm on a Friday night and I’m driving home after an excruciatingly long day.  The stress from the week has finally reached a boiling point and hot tears start falling down my face. It’s just been one of those weeks, and I’m on the ledge in danger of falling into a deep pit of self pity.

I start thinking about the fact that I stayed at school for an hour after the last bell to grade student work and I still had a pile waiting for me when I returned. I reflected on the school week. A week I wanted to forget. I broke up two fights, my eighth period’s misogynistic comments forced me to tears (in the privacy of the bathroom), my computer broke, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being overworked and under-appreciated.  I planned out the following week in my mind, which included several after-school meetings. I thought about how my last after-school meeting ran so long that by the time I got home, my daughter was tucked in her bed, asleep, even though she didn’t see me at all. My chest ached because I was pulled into a last-minute meeting at school and missed a pump session. I thought I had made up for it later that day, but the lasting effects were starting to hit me as sharp pains shot through my chest.

The to-do list for the weekend started scrolling through my mind. The ACT class I had to teach Saturday morning was not yet planned for, the shopping list I had  for my daughter’s upcoming baptism reception kept growing, yet the RSVP’s were rolling in slowly and I knew I would have to start tracking down the invitees to get a final count.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had alone time with my husband, and even though he slept next to me every night, he felt a million miles away. The idea of planning a date night seemed ridiculous in the light of everything we had going on.

In the short ride between school and home I had worked myself into a full-on anxiety meltdown. I kept telling myself that it was impossible to do it all: mother, teacher (both during the week and on the weekend), wife, club moderator, union member (who is in the middle of contract negotiations),caretaker, party planner...and as I climbed the steps to my house I was ready to throw in the towel. I was ready to declare to my husband that I QUIT! Adulting was not for me, and I was over all of it.

My husband knew I was having an off week, as I had complained about it over the last few days, so he didn’t question my sullen silence as I came into the house and prepared to nurse my daughter. She was hungry and a bit fussy, so I hurried to my seat on the couch and arranged myself. As he handed her to me, she smiled as she knew what was happening- dinner! She nursed and I felt a surge of relief as the engorgement that was ailing me before began to subside as did my anxiety.

Over the course of the weekend I began to realize I had it all wrong, I had so much to be grateful for! I was looking at my life -- and the things that were making me upset -- as a problem. In reality, all of those “problems” were things I had prayed for, wished for, and worked for. It was at that point that I saw that I am not in fact burdened, but I am blessed.

I thought more and more about why I was unhappy, and I began to see that I was allowing the challenges I was facing overshadow the fact that I have so many things going right in my life. I have a job that, although is a major stressor at times, is meaningful and gives me a purpose every day. I have the privilege of being on the team that is building a fair and comprehensive union contract that will benefit many students and teachers who enter the school doors even once I am no longer there.

I have a huge family! And yes, that can mean that parties and gatherings can get pretty expensive and are hectic to plan, but it’s only because everyone wants to be a part of the celebration. How can I be upset with that? There will always be opportunities to make more money, but making memories is much more important.

Of course, there is my daughter. The greatest gift I have ever been given, and I have the ability to give her the best form of nourishment and immunities through breastfeeding. I made a goal for myself to exclusively breastfeed my daughter for the first year of her life, and we are five and half months into it, and I am determined to make it to twelve months. I stand by the statement, “Breast is Best,” and I am grateful that I am able to provide what is best for my daughter. There are so many times when I would rather be in bed than attached to a pump at 3 am. Numerous times when nursing her is painful. I have dealt with the stares and eye rolls of strangers when I’ve nursed in public. There have been times when I can’t get to her or my pump soon enough and I ache or leak through my blouse. But it all continues to be worth it because it is for my daughter.

As I continued to go over what I am grateful for, I started to feel lighter. There is still so much in my life that can cause me stress, but I have come to see that it is only because I care so much about it all--and that’s not a bad thing! As my identity expands to include more and more roles, I get that there may be some growing pains associated with each. I have to trust that the skills, knowledge, and experience needed to be successful in those roles will also shift, grow, and change. To not have change is to be stagnant, and that is definitely something I don’t want.

By the end of the weekend, I was determined to make a shift in my thinking. I spoke to my husband about what I had been on my mind. I shared my frustrations and guilt. To top it off, in all of this, never did I even ask him how he was doing. Why did I think I was the only one struggling? My guilt became heavier.

I decided we needed make a point everyday to be positive and grateful. So, we agreed to do one little thing everyday that would not only give us time to connect, but also help us to see the blessings in our lives. We set a timer on our phones, to everyday, share with each other something we are grateful for. Something specific to the events of that day. It can be something the other person did, or something related to work or family-anything really. To hold ourselves accountable we made three rules:

1. We BOTH have to do it, even on the bad days. If there is ever a time when we are not together at the end of the day, we must share our gratitudes in a phone call or text message.
2. It must be specific- not a vague cop-out statement like, “I’m grateful for my husband.”
3. It must be genuine gratitude ( this one was mostly for me since I can get pretty sarcastic when I’m in a bad mood)

I know it may seem like a silly thing, but so far it has made such an improvement in my life and in my marriage. It forces me to stop and think about all the good moments I had throughout the day that can easily be overlooked, and it’s an opportunity to spend a genuine and intimate moment with my husband. It can be said over dinner, or during my daughter’s bath time. It can be just a statement or it can open the conversation to a story from the day I want to share. Eventually, this will be a tradition we will extend to our daughter and future children. We’ve only been doing it for a short time, but I believe it’s something that will last because it makes us feel good and it’s not hard to keep up.

As I conclude my thoughts, I have to admit I am a little embarrassed. I let myself go on and on thinking I had it so rough, when in reality it’s the opposite. I am grateful to my readers, for allowing me to be self-centered for a page (or two). We all need to sulk sometimes, but we also need to figure out ways to pull ourselves out of those moments as well. As a reader, I hope my you were able to gain some perspective about your own life, like I was able to. How have you been feeling lately? Have you been looking at your blessings as burdens like I was? It’s never too late to open your eyes and heart, and make a small change that can improve your outlook on life.

5 Reasons Why Being Friends With Your Siblings is the Best

There is a saying my Dad would always say to us when he wanted to make us laugh, “You can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend's’ nose.” This saying was usually met with a chorus of “eww” as we all dodged each other's fingers, but my dad was absolutely right, you can pick your friends. Family on the other hand, is luck of the draw. Still, there is something pretty magical that happens when you take your relationships with your family members to the next level and become friends. Specifically, when you become friends with your siblings. Now, I’m not meaning Facebook-obligatory- like their posts-friendships. I am talking about daily contact- genuine interest in their lives- wanting to see them more than during the holidays-secret language-friendship.

It’s true it is not always easy to be friends with your brothers and sisters, and there may be periods of time when you are closer to one over the other. But the beauty of this is, you will never be without each other. Family is forever, and if you are lucky enough to consider your brothers and sisters your friends, you will always have someone there for you. Now, being friends with your siblings can happen naturally, but there are elements to it that take work. When you have a busy life, you have to decide to be friends with each other and make the effort just as you would with any other relationship. That being said, long ago I decided that my brothers and sisters were more than just my siblings, they were also my friends, and I soon discovered he following are reasons why being friends with your siblings is the best:

1. You will never run out of inside jokes

No matter who you are, sharing an inside joke with someone is one of the most fun ways to feel connected. When it comes to the people you grew up with, there are a plethora of moments that when reminded of will evoke endless giggles and eye watering laughter- usually while other people look at you in confusion.

2. So much between you is unspoken

There are multiple layers of understanding and familiarity with your siblings and so, when you talk to each other, you are able to surpass the backstory and get right to the heart of the matter. Answering each other’s text messages with one word, or a GIF works because there is already a lifetime of context to rely on.

3. You have seen them at their worst moments and still want to be around them

Think about all the gross things you have seen your siblings do growing up. Maybe one of you was a terrible person as a teenager, or went through a weird phase. Whatever  bad or gross things we have witnessed our siblings do, it hasn’t scared us away. We didn’t really have a choice when we were younger, and now that we do, it’s forgotten- or it gets added to the list of things we use to make fun of each other- see #1.

4. No one knows you better

I would like to think as we age, we also grow. We learn from our mistakes and we become better people. That being said, our siblings know who we are at our core, and that doesn’t change. Since the development of our personalities are intertwined with each other no matter how we change, our siblings will always know us best, and there will be very few people in our lives who can say the same.

5.   The Love

The love that exists between siblings is only second to the love between children and parents. Even the love between spouses takes a close third. I have the privilege of remembering when each of my siblings were born, and the instant rush of emotions I had for them when I first laid eyes on them is a feeling I can’t explain. Only seeing my own child after her birth can top the moment. The love in a friendship between brothers and sisters creates an unbreakable bond, and it is for this reason that friendships like this are meant to last forever.

I am excited for the day when my daughter has a little brother or sister of her very own to play with, take care of, and love. I only hope that I can instill the same sense of  closeness that my parents  instilled in me and my siblings. At the very least, my brothers, sisters, and I will be a model for all of our children, just as my father and his siblings have been for us.

I know I’m lucky to have this kind of relationship with my brothers and sister, and I’m grateful everyday that the universe chose me to be their sister, and more so that they chose me to be their friend.

I Get it Now

Having my daughter absolutely changed my life. In the harder moments I think to myself how lucky I am to have such a loving mother who has provided me with a great example of limitless love. So, this weeks blog post is a poem, a dedication of sorts, to my mama.

I get it now

When you say I am your baby, even though I’m 29

Why you hug me a little longer

Why you place your hand on mine

I get it now

Why you woke me through the night

To make sure my fever broke

Even when you worked a double shift

And the fatigue was settled on your soul

I get it now

How my accomplishments can bring you pride

Why you clapped the loudest

Why it may have made you cry

I get it now

Why every school trip you would attend

Even when I was not excited

And would rather sit with a friend

I get it now

How my growing brought both joy and sorrow

How you hated watching me outgrow my clothes

And loved to see what I would do tomorrow

I get that without a YOU

There would not be a ME

I get why you stepped back, why you let me be

But most of all

I get it

How love can change and grow

Into something magical,

The bounds of which I still don’t know

How it becomes unstoppable

A force of nature-sure and true

It all makes sense to me

I understand my love for her
I get it now, because of you

The Harsh World of Teenage Girls

I work at a school of all boys, so  it is easy for me to forget what it’s like to work with teenage girls. I recently took a job teaching ACT prep on Saturday mornings to boys and girls at a local high school. As the girls trickled into my classroom passing me at the doorway, I realized how much time went into their looks. I mean, it was an early Saturday morning! If I was in high school at the time and I came in for an ACT prep class, I probably would be in jeans and a hoodie. Not these ladies. So many of them had a full face of makeup and glossy bouncy curls, or smooth straight hair. At first, I thought to myself, “Wow! How do they already know how to apply their makeup so well?” I then realized, due to the internet and the immediacy of information, anything can be found online. This may sound like a perk of modern society, but is this really a good thing? I started thinking more and more about what pressures young girls face today. I came to the conclusion that being a teenager is much harder today than it was when I was one. The following are not only things that make life harder for teenage girls, but also are things I didn't really have to deal with when I was younger:

1. Makeup and hair tutorials

When I was in high school my greatest worry when it came to make up was making sure my eyeliner was even and my eyebrows were plucked just the right way. I also had terrible skin that I was trying to figure out ways to cover, but guess what, so was every other teenager I knew. Today people have access to hair and makeup tutorials. These are plastered all over the Internet.On the surface, makeup and hair tutorials may seem harmless, and even beneficial. Instead of fumbling with makeup for the first time, or just doing what your friends are doing (which they just learned from their older sisters), you can watch other girls go through a step by step instructional video of how to apply the perfect lip liner. You can't go far on YouTube or Instagram without finding a video about how to clown contour (yes, that’s a thing) or braid your hair in a crazy complicated way. In reality, however, I think it just places an unnecessary pressure on girls to look like the women in these videos. A girl’s style and expression is no longer hers, rather it is just a replica of the latest trend and video. Have you mastered the beach waves look yet? That’s okay, just look it up. How about the perfect smokey eye? Well, Pinterest has over 100 pins that can direct you to a how-to on that. Whatever the look- there’s a video, and although that may seem like it makes a girl’s life easier, it creates a situation where girls' expectations of themselves are unrealistic.

2. Instagram, Facebook, SnapChat, Twitter...etc

Now, we all may laugh and think to ourselves that a selfie is no big deal, but to many teenage girls taking a perfect selfie is very important. Don’t forget, these selfies are being posted on social media. Getting as many likes as possible is not just a form of validation but is more so a form of social currency for our youth. Having an active and popular presence on social media is a whole new measure of popularity and happiness for teens today. Every hangout, hookup, and latte are now being posted as evidence of how "cool" they are, when in reality these are simply manicured versions of their lives. For teenage girls especially, wanting to fit in and look the part derives a lot from whether or not they are accepted on social media.

3. Reality TV

There is nothing more terrible than watching a TV show of so-called “real people” who are taking extravagant trips, have their own Glam squad, and can shop wherever they want when I myself consider buying an outfit at Macy’s as a splurge. There is nothing real about these people, yet they are portrayed as people we can easily emulate. I can't imagine what it would be like as a teenager to sit and watch shows like Keeping Up With the Kardashians and Rich Kids of Beverly Hills, thinking that this is the way real people live in other parts of the country. I have to admit, I myself am a sucker for a trashy reality TV shows, but I also know that these shows are just that- trashy TV. When I was in high school, the amount of reality TV was pretty minimal. I spent my weekday nights watching love triangles unfold on shows like Grey’s Anatomy and One Tree Hill. Of course, like all TV and movies, there were always elements of fantasy- but that was okay because these were shows of fiction. Reality TV is created in a way to perpetuate this idea that anyone can be made into a celebrity with the right look and following, and that’s simply not true.

4. Online Pornography

WOAH- What?! Yes- I am going there-and I hope you have an open mind to continue reading. Now, online pornography has never been something I have thought much about. I know it’s out there, and I know it’s free and easily accessible. But it wasn’t until I saw the documentary, Hot Girls Wanted, that I really began to think of the damaging effects the online pornography industry has on the youth of America. Think about it: before the internet, teenagers had to figure out creative ways of getting their hands on dirty videos and pictures, and because of that it wasn't done as often. Today, anyone with Wi-Fi can download and watch videos ranging from amateur videos made by frisky couples to hardcore violent sex acts performed on seemingly young girls. In fact, according to the documentary, videos featuring teenage girls are the number-one-searched type of pornography. How does this affect teens? Well, boys who are watching these videos (at an even younger age than before) may believe that this is what a real sexual relationship is like, and girls who get into relationships with these boys may be forced into participating in sexual acts that make them uncomfortable and even put them in physical danger. Both young men and women are at a great risk of going through their adolescence with this unrealistic view of sex, and to me that is scary.

Now to some who are reading this, it may seem like I am making a lot of assumptions, and I’m sorry. I am not trying to say that all teenage girls are victims in this cruel world of beauty, celebrity, and social media. I just realize, that as an adult, figuring out how to look past the veil of materialism, vanity, and artificiality is hard! Figuring out who you are as a sexual being is scary and tricky at best. So, I can only imagine what it would be like to deal with this as a young girl. We all remember what it was like to be a teenager. There was a lot about it that wasn’t fun. I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted from life, and I was able to figure it out on my own through a journey of triumphs and mistakes- all of which are memories and not regretful moments plastered all over the internet.

I know these 4 challenges are just the tip of the iceberg for what the youth today have to deal with, but I think it’s a starting point for important discussion to happen. As parents, teachers, counselors, etc, we have to face the fact that although there are many things we can relate to with youth today, teens are living a very different life. It’s important to talk to them about these challenges, and not pretend like we always know what they are going through. If we look at what girls (and boys) are facing today and have those hard conversations, we will help them to not only make better decisions as teenagers, but develop the confidence and skills to continue making those positive decisions into adulthood.

It’s pretty crazy for me to think that one day my very own daughter will have to learn how to stand on her own in a world that will lay perpetual societal pressures on her shoulders. I know it won’t be easy for her or me, and I just hope we are both up for the challenge.

Millennial Mama

I decided to change the name of my blog recently. I did this because I feel like my life has greatly changed and I want the opportunity to write about these changes. Before now, I have stuck (most of the time) to writing about experiences in my classroom, but I have quickly discovered, there is so many things I want to say about topics other than education. So much of my identity has surrounded being a teacher, and although that is still a major part of who I am, I owe it to myself to explore the other sides of me.

I will still write about my classroom experiences, but I also want to write about what it’s like to be a woman during this day and age. I want to share my strife and triumphs of motherhood. I want to post my ponderings of marriage and my imaginings of poetry and short stories.

That is what I intend to do here, and I hope that as a reader you are able to enjoy and relate to the thoughts I formulate into words and post on this blog. I know it seems silly to even write this kind of post- but I wanted a fresh start-so here it is- ready set go!

A Dedication to My Brother and the Father He Has Become

Normally, I use this blog space to write about my experiences and lessons learned in the classroom. However, I'm allowing myself to use this as a forum to say some really important things about someone in my life who means the world to me. These are words I can't bring to my lips for they hold so much weight and emotion, so I will put them to screen in the hopes that not only my brother sees them, but all those who are in his same position.

 Anyone who knows me, knows that my family -- especially my siblings -- are everything to me. They are both the roots that keep me grounded and the limbs that lift me up and push me to achieve. My brother, Gabriel, is no exception. He is one of the most important people in my life.  There isn't a day that goes by that Gabe and I don't communicate. No moment in my life that he didn't know about first, or has helped me through. Besides my husband, Gabe is the only other person who I tell everything to.  I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture.

One of the most satisfying things about being the oldest has been watching Gabe and my other siblings grow, mature, and accomplish their goals. It's truly beautiful to see how each of my siblings have their own personalities, talents,  and dreams. I am proud to say I have been able to watch Gabe celebrate some of life's greatest moments: graduations, awards, marriage, and most recently parenting.

Yes, my stinky little brother grew up to be a man and a Dad. Gabe and his husband became foster parents and for the past year have been Dads to two beautiful children. This has been the biggest transformation I have ever seen Gabe go through. I know everyone who has children go through a lot of changes- but my brother and his husband literally became parents of an infant and toddler overnight! Now, the tables have turned and the kid who used to call me for advice will be able to hand out his own once my baby is finally born! Life is crazy beautiful in that way.

So, you ask me, why write this? Why dedicate these words to my brother for becoming a Dad when people do it everyday? It's simple. Foster parents don't get the recognition they deserve, and I want the world to know how PROUD and INSPIRED I am by brother and his husband!

Also, there is more to the story.  Unlike myself, my brother's house will not be the permanent residence of his children. He will not be able to watch these little ones grow up and become adults, because they will soon be reunited with their birth parents. As one can imagine, this has been incredibly hard for Gabe and his husband. I am not here to argue the decision the courts have made or to bad mouth the birth parents of these children. I just want to shed light on the selflessness that is fostering.

Now, as I said before, my brother has been a Dad for about a year now. And, although I was always proud of him it wasn't until recently that I was truly able to understand, even just for a moment, the true joy and pain my brother must be experiencing as a foster parent. It opened my eyes to something I thought I already knew -- but in reality was totally ignorant to.

It happened right after my baby shower. I was elbow deep in a laundry basket of newly washed baby clothes, happily folding. The smell of the baby laundry detergent was all around me and I was talking to my husband about how surreal this all still was to me. It was so hard for me to imagine the small human that was soon going to be wearing these clothes and wrapped in the blankets. I  was trying to imagine my daughter's locks of curly hair and how it would feel to touch them with my finger tips, and what her skin would feel like under my kiss -- the final weeks of my pregnancy at that moment felt like an eternity!  Just then, she moved in my stomach, almost in response to my thoughts as if to say, "I'm here mama, don't worry I will see you soon!" Needless to say I was overcome with emotion. I felt this immense sense of gratitude and happiness like I've never known. Not only was I having a baby, but I just had a party where my family and friends showered my unborn child with gifts -- nothing could make the moment better.

I started to think about Gabe and his husband and what they were currently going though. I felt guilty. What did I do to deserve all of this? NOTHING. The process to being a parent was relatively simple for me. I was born a girl. I married a boy. I got pregnant. I didn't have to go through a long process of paper work involving social workers, interviews, and home inspections for this baby, and in the end she will be ours -- no questions asked.

I tried to feel better by telling myself that Gabe and his husband will be able to get another pair of kids, and maybe this time they will be able to adopt them. I was sick with myself. His children are not a leased car that they can turn in for a better model! It all began to hit me. Up until this point, I had felt sad for my brother and his husband. Gabe talked a lot about how hard this process was and what it was doing to his kids. And I sympathized with him, because it was a sad situation, and I love my brother- so his pain was my pain. But it wasn't until this moment as all these thoughts were rushing through my head, holding my daughter's outfit, feeling her move inside of me, was I truly able to empathize with my brother.

This is what I realized, and I couldn't believe I hadn't before this moment. Gabe isn't a foster parent. He is more than that. He is a Father, Dad, Daddy first and foremost and a foster parent second. The children are his son and daughter, not his "foster kids", they call him and his husband Daddy because that's who they are to them. Gabe is an awesome Dad, and so is his husband- but they wouldn't be if they saw themselves as "Foster Parents" and their children as their "Foster Kids." Yes, I know, this is what they signed up for when becoming foster parents. They knew that this day could come -- but that doesn't change the fact that for the past year they have loved and cared for these two adorable beings no differently then they would have if they were their own flesh and blood.

So, I ask you reader, put yourself for a moment in his shoes. Think of your children, or niece or nephew- a child who you love and care for. Now for a moment imagine someone taking away that child... Is it hard to breathe? Do you ache? Or did you not even try to imagine it because it was too hard?

I am sorry to say, it wasn't until I myself started to feel like a mother, did I really see Gabe as a father. It's as if the experiences of my pregnancy lifted a veil from my eyes I didn't even know was there. I haven't met my daughter, and the thought of her not being mine is something I can't even begin to handle. I'm not proud of the fact that it took me this long to see something that was directly in front of me -- but now that I have, it has permanently changed how I see my brother's experiences. My only hope is that people who read this also change their perspective and realize the magnitude of what foster parents may be going through. I know it's hard to always know what to say when faced with a topic such as this, but if there is a level of empathy and understanding- no words are needed.

I know Gabe and his husband are going to have kids who will be theirs forever. They will not give up on their journey, but I understand now, even if it's just by a fraction, how hard this journey may be. So, in this moment of realization I dedicate these words and emotions to my brother and the amazing father he is and will continue to be -- even once his kids leave his home. He will always be a father even once those bedrooms are empty because they will hold the memory of diapers and play dates, runny noses and tear-stained cheeks, baby laughter and first steps. Being a parent is not conditional based on how many children are in the home. These experiences have created parents out of Gabe and his husband, and no amount of syntax and rhetoric can ever take that honor away.

The Bicycle Theory- 5 Ways I hope to Foster Motivation in my Classroom

The new school year is right around the corner, and as I embark on my 6th year as a educator I have been reflecting on ways to improve my craft. 

As a teacher, I am always looking for ways to increase student motivation and buy-in. In an ideal world, students would be excited to learn the sake of learning. They would want good grades because that will lead to graduation and scholarships and a university of their choice which will then lead them to a prosperous life. All of these things sound wonderful, don't they? News flash- we do not live in an ideal world. As a high school teacher, I have to deal with academic apathy on an everyday basis. Critics may say, "If you are preparing and executing student-centered and engaging lessons, there will always be buy-in and high student motivation." They raise a good point. However, this is unrealistic. Not every single lesson in every single class of every single day can  be engaging to every single student.

I have come to ponder the idea of motivation based on cultural experience and expectations. As a Mexican-American woman, is my own self-efficacy and motivation tangled in the culture and customs I was raised with? Was it simply my parents and family? How does society play into it? All of these questions have left me reeling as I attempt to crack the code needed to keep my students highly motivated. The more I think about it, the more I start to believe that the key to motivation lies less in a single cultural experience but more in that of the overall human experience.

Where does motivation start?  One of my very first memories of motivation is learning to ride a bike. I am sure many people can relate to the experience. This was something I wanted, and no matter how many times I fell off-- I got right back on. Why did I want to ride the bike in the first place? I guess it was to keep up with my friends, to get around the neighborhood, and to enjoy the freedom of movement. I feel like this is motivation in its purest form.

All of these things were natural rewards for mastering the skill. Most importantly they were intrinsic and sustaining. I would never run out of places to go or things to see. Once I excelled, a new level of bike riding would unlock. It was a never ending reward system. First I started off with riding corner to corner. Once I mastered that I was able to go around the block. Next, was to the busy street and back, and before I knew it, I was going all the way to the park.

This experience of mine, I feel, is universal. Go into any neighborhood of any race, culture, and class, and there will be people who have had the same experience of learning to ride a bike. Sure, the type and quality of the bike will change, maybe the amount of freedom one has to ride the bike would differ, but most people would be able to tell the story of how they felt when they first rode steady and strong on their own, and more importantly, they will be able to share the positive emotional attachment to that moment.

Think about it this way: Once we learned to ride our bikes, did we just stop?

So, why don't we teach like we are showing students how to ride a bike? So much of education is focused on an end result-- higher education and a career. What if we stopped focusing so much on where students were going, and more on the vehicle through which they would use to get there, the vehicle being their education? Isn't an ideal education just like riding a bike? First we learn easier skills that we then can build upon and challenge to be able to go faster and further. Yes, the destination is still important, but if we took more time and energy to help students see the joy in the journey, maybe more students would stay in school...or on their bikes as the metaphor goes.

I know I sound like just another idealistic educator who talks a lot but doesn't actually say anything, but I really feel like I have something here. How do we build this idea that the process of learning is just as important as the end result in our classrooms, schools, and communities? What can I do to ignite the intrinsic motivation of my students?

While thinking of this issue, I came up with a small list of things I can do in my classroom to help students stay motivated more naturally:

1. Allow students to compete with themselves. Give students some form of an assessment at the beginning of the year, semester, unit, and show them their own personal growth as they master more skills and content.

2. Help students to make personal and academic goals, and provide a time when they can develop ideas and plans for how they can accomplish their goals.

3. As the year progresses and students learn more, allow them more privileges, so they see the connection between learning and gaining.

4. Use visuals in the classroom to show how much students have learned and accomplished throughout the year to inspire pride and a positive self-image.

5. Be transparent with students about how I am continuing my own education, and  what are the steps I take to better myself as a life long learner. 

I am hoping to use the above list in my classroom this year, and to help my students make a paradigm shift about education and the part they play in their own journey. At the very least, I want students to learn that education is more than just a rocket, meant to blast off and drop them off in their future, rather it is a vehicle they will be using for the rest of their lives. We all have that dusty, rusty bike in our garage that we use from time to time. We must teach students that education is like that bike, Every now and then, when we need to, we must get that bike out- dust it off and jump on it, ready for a new adventure. 

I hope all the educators out there have a great school year and remember the joy of teaching is in the journey of becoming the best, not the moment when you believe you have finally arrived.